


don’t tell your mom (that i cut your hair with a pair of children’s scissors)

by everybreatheverymove



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 23:21:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17672063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everybreatheverymove/pseuds/everybreatheverymove
Summary: The momentary silence is filled with the sound of snipping then, and Mike squeezes his eyes shut tight — in dread — as the girl softly pulls on the hairs at the base of his neck.(If his mom knew what they were doing... If she knew what Mike was letting his girlfriend do to him in the family basement... He can't even imagine the look on her face.)Prompt: "Hold still," and "Stop being so cute."





	don’t tell your mom (that i cut your hair with a pair of children’s scissors)

"Hold still."

"I'm trying," Mike tells her, shoulders slumping contradictorily. He leans back in his seat, eyes closing as his nostrils flare, "Just... hurry up."

El just rolls her eyes, and she slides her thumb and forefinger through the scissors in her hand again, "I'm  _trying_." She mocks, deepening her voice to imitate him.

Mike gasps, dramatic as ever, and El has to hold back a giggle when he pouts like a little child. Then he says, low, "El?"

"Yes?"

"Now's not the time for cracking jokes," Mike tells her, and he peeks one brown eye open to look up at her. Only, she'd stood behind him, so he can't really see her anyway. Mike frowns, brows furrowing, "I can't see you."

"Not supposed to." The brunette quips back, corners of her mouth curling into a smirk, "Now let me work, Mike."

"I am."

"No. You're... being cute." El informs him, voice lowering, "Stop being so cute."

The momentary silence is filled with the sound of  _snipping_  then, and Mike squeezes his eyes shut tight — in dread — as the girl softly pulls on the hairs at the base of his neck.

(If his mom knew what they were doing... If she knew what Mike was letting his girlfriend do to him in the family basement... He can't even imagine the look on her face.)

"How..." El starts with a pause. She sucks her bottom lip between her front teeth, head tilting to the side as though she's contemplating her next move. "How short, Mike?"

"What?" Eyes fluttering open at her question, the boy half-swivels around in his chair, pulling on the ends of the towel around his shoulders to keep it somewhat in place. "Not  _short_. Well," he blinks, looking up at her and watching as she places the scissors back on the table, fingers slipping through the hoops. "Not  _too_  short."

His eyes are immediately drawn to the floor then, and he spots locks of his dark brown hair lying dead on the carpet, discarded and  _gone_. Mike gulps, eyes widening as big as saucers.

(His mom is totally going to  _kill_  him!)

"I think I'm done," El whispers, and there's a noticeable hint of hesitation in her voice.

Running his fingers through his hair in curiosity (and fear), Mike is relieved to find that she's actually barely cut any off. He's still got dark hair down to his neck, past his jawline, and Mike scrunches up a fistful in his hand with a smile. It  _feels_  even...

Taking in the nervous look on her face, Mike carefully unwraps the towel from his shoulders. He folds it in half and places it on the stool, stepping over the hair to reach El.

"Thank you." He tells her, closing the distance between them with a kiss to her cheek.

The girl simply ducks her head, "It's not bad?"

"I don't think so." Mike shrugs, "I mean, I wouldn't care if it was but... You wanted to try, right?" He nods to get an answer out of her, put her at ease.

El hums in agreement, but she looks up at him with a cautious look on her face, "Your mom-"

"My mom will be fine." He tells her, interrupting. He tugs on the hair by his eyes, pushing it back into place. "Besides, now it's always gonna be curlier so..."

"Like mine."

"Exactly." He says, cheeks slightly reddening at the beaming smile she's giving him.

El takes a step away from the table then, comfortably laying a hand on his upper arm with a squeeze, "Thank you." She leans up on her tiptoes, ignoring the hair that's stuck to the bottom of her shoes. She presses her lips against his, silently thanking him for being  _her_  test subject.

"You don't need to thank me." Mike tells her, "But, hey, maybe next time you can cut Max's hair." He suggests, and the mischievous glint in his eye doesn't escape her.

"She wouldn't like that."

He grins, "I know."


End file.
